


Winter Jasmine

by SkyTintedWater



Category: RWBY
Genre: Bechdel Test Pass, transgender character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 10:32:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyTintedWater/pseuds/SkyTintedWater
Summary: An old woman tells a young girl a story.





	Winter Jasmine

Cerulean Lutris felt good that day. The warm air was a pleasant change from the cool rain of yesterday — storms always makes her bad knees ache.  
As she walked slowly along the road looking for a sunny place to sit and eat her lunch she heard someone crying. Just around the bend a small child knelt in the dirt, sobbing like her heart would break. Cerulean wasn’t fond of children but she’s not hard-hearted enough to simply walk by. So she sat by the child and waited for her to calm down.  
It didn’t take long, and when the child noticed Cerulean there she jumped back and grabbed a rock in her tiny fist like she was expecting to be attacked. Cerulean didn’t even flinch.  
‘Why do you cry, child?’  
The girl sniffled and rubbed her eyes, leaving a smear of dirt on her cheek. ‘The others were being mean to me. They called me a boy. I’m not a boy, I’m not!’  
Cerulean resisted the urge to roll her eyes at people’s preoccupation with gender, knowing that the girl would take it the wrong way. Instead she patted the space on the tree root beside her, inviting the child to sit down.  
‘Do you like stories, child?’ she asked. The kid nodded and Cerulean took a deep breath.  
‘Once upon a time there was a young girl who everyone thought was worthless. She came from a poor family with many children, and even though she helped where she could it wasn’t enough, and her family started to resent her.  
‘They told her she was stupid and took away her books. They told her she was weak and made her work from sunup to sundown to make her strong. They told her she took up too much space and confined her to a small bed in the attic.  
‘One day when she was fifteen, she woke up feeling light. So light, in fact, that when she looked properly she realised the ceiling was just inches from her nose. She was flying! The girl was so surprised she lost her concentration and fell onto the bed, but she was laughing. She’d never done anything special in her life, but this new power was hers alone, and she wanted to learn what she could do with it.  
‘She locked herself in the attic and didn’t come down for two days — not that her family noticed. While she was alone she tried out her new powers to see what she could do. The girl could fly. The girl could summon rain. The girl could freeze things with a touch, and warm them up just as quickly. Her new power made her tired and she didn’t have good control, but she knew with practice she could do good things, great things even.  
‘So that night, while everyone was asleep, she packed her few possessions in a bag and left the house knowing she’d never return.’  
‘She just left her family?’ asked the child, her mouth open, her tears dried and forgotten.  
Cerulean nodded.  
‘Did they ever look for her?’  
The old woman shrugged. ‘I don’t know. They might not have cared. Now hush and let me tell the rest of the story.  
‘The girl travelled as far as she could, earning money by working whatever odd jobs she could and practicing her power in secret. It took her years before she could control them properly and use them without hurting anyone. Or herself.  
‘When she was sure of her control she started to help people, in secret. If there was a drought, she’d bring rain overnight. If people needed food, she’d make their crops grow. If a Grimm attacked, she’d strike it with lightning. She did what she could, and she never told anybody.’  
The child sighed. ‘That sounds lonely. Didn’t the lady have any friends?’  
‘There were people she liked, and people who would give her shelter if she was nearby. Other people would give her free meals, or clothes if they had any to spare. But to be friends with someone, you have to trust them. And the girl didn’t trust anybody, not really. She thought that they would take advantage of her power in some way.’  
Cerulean felt the child’s hand slip into hers and smiled. ‘Do you have anyone you trust, child?’  
The girl nodded. ‘My dads. They know I’m a girl, an’ they let me wear dresses and grow my hair long like I want. I guess my sister too, but she can be real mean sometimes. But we tell each other all our secrets, like … I can’t tell you. ‘Cause then it wouldn’t be a secret.’  
‘That’s good. Trusting people is good. I never learned.’  
‘Not anyone? Like the girl from the story?’  
‘Just like her.’  
‘What happened to her?’ asked the child, still holding Cerulean’s hand.  
‘She got older and more powerful. She used her powers in new and creative ways, always helping people where she could, so long as she could keep them at a distance. She fought many enemies and never, ever went back home.’  
The child frowned, like she was thinking. ‘Is this a true story?’ she asked.  
‘True enough. Did you learn anything from it?’  
‘Mmm … I’m not sure. I should ask my sister. Can I tell her the story?’  
Cerulean nodded. ‘On one condition: You tell me your name. Your full name.’  
‘My name … my real name is Jasmine. Jasmine Florum. Like the flower.’  
‘That’s a nice name. I’m Cerulean.’  
They shake hands, solemnly. Then Jasmine smiles.  
‘Dad’s cooking tonight. He’s very good. Would you like to come over for dinner? He always makes too much.’  
Cerulean shakes her head. ‘That’s a lovely invitation Jasmine, but I need to go. I have an appointment.’  
‘Will you be here tomorrow?’  
‘No. I don’t think I’ll be back this way again. It was lovely meeting you, dear. Don’t let those other children give you a hard time — never let anyone tell you who you are. Only you can do that.’  
‘Was that the point of your story?’ asks Jasmine, but the old woman is gone.  
Young Jasmine goes home, deep in thought. 

***

When Cerulean lay dying in the middle of the forest she wasn’t thinking about how cold it was. She wasn’t thinking that she’d lived a lot longer than Maidens usually do. She wasn’t even thinking about the baying of the Beowolves nearby (she wasn’t sad, so she wasn’t worried. They wouldn’t come close).  
When Cerulean lay dying in the middle of the forest she thought about how she’d spent her life helping others, and about how her younger self would be proud of how far she’d come. Cerulean thought about a young girl crying on the side of the road because people only saw how she was different.  
‘Jasmine,’ she managed, her breath fogging in the air above her. ‘Jasmine Florum.’  
Her very last thought was that it was ironic for the Winter Maiden to die in the snow. 

Half a continent away, Jasmine Florum falls from her chair, eyes wide as raw _power_ courses through her, somehow hot and cold at the same time. She breathes in and smells the flowers from next door. She can hear her brothers calling to each other from the barn. She tastes snow in the air, even though the sky is piercingly, achingly blue.  
Jasmine thinks about stories she’s been told, about young women with powers, and what they used those powers to do.  
With a shaky breath she stands and stares at the apple tree outside. It’s old and gnarled, turned in on itself like a grumpy old dog. She closes her eyes and reaches out, physically, mentally and in a way she could never begin to describe.  
Fo the first time in a decade the apple tree sprouts tiny white flowers, and without opening her eyes Jasmine knows that her family will have a bountiful crop of apples this year.

**Author's Note:**

> I started this story before Volume 5 and then forgot about it for a while. It was going to be very different, but I rewrote the whole thing to be much simpler, mainly because I wanted it out before Volume 6 starts (I have a headcanon about the woman on Yang’s bike being an elderly Winter Maiden).  
> I also really like the idea of one of the Maidens being trans.


End file.
